


I Settled In (to doin' wrong)

by no_big_deal



Series: And it Spread [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fantasizing, Glove Kink, Masturbation, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25985500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_big_deal/pseuds/no_big_deal
Summary: Rose sneaks into Hux's quarters and jacks it with his gloves.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Series: And it Spread [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919947
Comments: 15
Kudos: 38
Collections: GingerRose Kink Weeks





	I Settled In (to doin' wrong)

**Author's Note:**

> My "uniform/glove kink" entry for Gingerrose Kink Weeks! No beta so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Title from the Avett Brother's song "And it Spread."

Rose had been apprehensive when General Leia chose her for this mission. She was an engineer, not a spy, after all. But the general had carefully explained the objective was one that only Rose could fulfill, so she set aside her misgivings and jumped into her new assignment with enthusiasm. It was every Resistance member’s dream to be hand-selected by the legendary General Leia for a job, so Rose was determined to succeed.

The Resistance Intelligence team gave Rose a complete run-down: The First Order was producing new tech, their design engineers sending specs to the top levels of command for input or approval. But this new tech wasn’t only new warships and better weapons; some of it was basic design adapted for use in the imperial fleet, like improvements to the laundry facilities or ration dispensers, or droid assembly units. 

But the way that the First Order encrypted and named its files meant that only someone with an engineering background—like Rose—could know when they were looking at something important, like plans for a new blaster rifle—as opposed to useless specs, like smaller wheels for an MSE-6. The Resistance had to know what weapons the First Order was developing if it was going to survive. 

The plan was to sneak Rose aboard a Star Destroyer as a junior grade mechanic so she could get a hold of any valuable plans and transmit them back to the Resistance. Rose was informed that in two days she would be sent onboard the  _ Finalizer  _ to begin her mission. She released a shaky breath as General Leia shook her hand.

“Good luck, Rose Tico. And may the Force be with you.”

*~*~*~*~*

Once aboard the  _ Finalizer, _ Rose quickly learned which terminals would give her access to the new tech schematics. Unfortunately, most of these stations were in public areas, workrooms, or laboratories that were staffed at all hours. 

She needed to find a secluded access terminal, one that would let her operate without having to answer any awkward questions from any prying eyes. And there was only one private access terminal on the entire ship: The one in the Star Destroyer general’s quarters.

*~*~*~*~*

A stolen maintenance override key would grant her access to his suite. A quick hack of a protocol droid’s memory banks gave her the general’s schedule so she knew she’d have most of the daytime hours uninterrupted to complete her work, so long as she went in no earlier than 900 hours. 

The file she’d reviewed on the general, General Armitage Hux, had surprised her, to say the least. She had expected the photo in his dossier to show a grizzled old war dog, yellow teeth and beady eyes, wrinkles and age spots dotting a balding head.

But Armitage Hux was—she felt disloyal for thinking so—strikingly handsome. He was younger than she'd expected, with brilliant eyes and a sensual curve to his lip that had her studying the picture longer than was strictly necessary.

All she had to do was activate the terminal in his room, find the plans, securely transmit them to the Resistance, and get out by 1500. She would do this every day until she was contacted for extraction. Or until she was caught. 

She was determined not to let  _ that _ happen. 

*~*~*~*~*

By 930, the hall in the residential wing was finally empty. She slipped quietly through the door to the general’s quarters and activated a single light, just enough to work with. Her target terminal sat in the corner, humming with electricity, just waiting for someone to press the right buttons so it would give up its secrets. 

The room was immaculate. Obviously the housekeeping droids gave this suite top priority each morning. The floors gleamed; each surface polished to a shine that reflected her face back at her no matter where she looked. Only the bed, with its simple grey comforter trimmed in red, provided a reprieve from the constant glare. 

And this was a problem. The terminal was as gleaming as every other surface. If she touched it, her fingers would leave marks, a smear from her skin, maybe even a fingerprint, which could prove disastrous. Looking around the room she saw a solution—sitting on the bedside table—a pair of black gloves. 

She reached for them, not expecting the buttery smooth leather to feel as nice as it did under her fingers. It was disarmingly supple beneath her calloused fingertips. They smelled nice, too: warm and natural and masculine. She felt goosebumps break out up and down her arms as she took a deep breath. 

It had been way too long since she’d had the opportunity to snuggle up close to a man and be soothed by his touch or his scent. There just wasn’t time for relationships or intimacy in the Resistance. These gloves were just another reminder of all the First Order had taken away from her. All the same, she couldn’t resist another inhale of the heady aroma. She immediately felt a chain reaction of arousal build within her body. These gloves smelled  _ good. _

The gloves were much too large for her, but she slipped one on her right hand so she could activate the terminal. The lining was distractingly warm, some sort of cashmere or similarly expensive fabric that Rose had only ever heard of and certainly never touched before. Whatever it was, it was incredibly luxurious; she wished she had an entire blanket of it to wrap around her body. 

Especially now, with her nipples hardening underneath her mechanic’s jumpsuit, her body’s reaction to the scent and feel of the gloves, a warm, soft wool blanket would be just the thing to catch on the pebbled skin of her breasts. She suppressed a shiver at the delicious thought.

It was hard to believe that something this soft was lining some First Order General’s extra gloves. If she had a pair like this, she’d be hard pressed to ever take them off.

With the glove on her hand, she activated the terminal and began sifting through the voluminous files to find the ones she wanted. She realized there was  _ weeks _ of work here, maybe even months. Each relevant file she found she quickly marked for transmission to the Resistance. 

She kept an eye on the clock. Depending on how many files she found, she’d need to leave an hour, if not more, to ensure the transmission was received by the Resistance before she secured the terminal and exited the room. 

According to the protocol droid, General Hux took afternoon tea in his quarters. She needed to be long gone by then.

*~*~*~*~*

Rose started the transmission just after 1300. Satisfied, she stepped back from the terminal, stretching her arms and legs, stiff after hours of hunching over a keyboard. 

She looked around the room, which was fairly empty. There was the bed, which was made with such rigorous precision she didn’t dare touch it. There was a small sofa and armchair in the opposite corner, with a small table between them. Perhaps where the general took his tea? The only other door led to a walk-in closet full of black uniforms, with a fresher in the back. All in all, not very grand for a General of the First Order, Rose thought.

Yawning, she stretched out on the sofa, but be sure to keep herself sitting upright so as not to fall asleep. She could not risk being caught here. As she sat, she played with the glove, spinning it around with her fingers, admiring how the matte black of the leather absorbed the light, eventually giving in and putting it back on her hand and stroking her cheek. It was odd, the sensation was smooth and yet  _ raw. _ It intrigued her. 

She ran her hand down her cheek to her neck. The fingertips of the glove brushed against her collarbone and a tiny moan escaped her lips. She swallowed, as she thought for a minute about what she was doing. 

Being in the Resistance was worthwhile. She would never regret her decision to fight for what was right. But it was so, so lonely. She deserved a few minutes for herself. 

*~*~*~*~*

Decision made, Rose wasted no time. Unzipping her jumpsuit to her navel, she grasped the back of the couch with her left hand and brought her right hand, encased in the warm leather glove, directly to her breast, slipping beneath her undergarments as best she could. 

Wiggling to get her fingertips to her nipple, she pinched and rubbed as best she could with the overlarge glove. Though almost silky smooth, the sensation from the seam on the thumb was just rough enough to make her softly cry out as she dragged it, back and forth, across her areola. 

Feeling a familiar dampness gathering between her legs, she brought her left knee up to rest against the back of the couch while her right foot dropped down to the ground. Slowly, she began to move her hand within the glove down her belly.

It was easy to pretend it was someone else’s hand. Trapped inside the glove, her fingers seemed larger than they were, and longer too. With a moan, she drove her finger into her sex, her entrance filled by the glove, the sensation of the pristine leather against her skin filling her with need for  _ more. _

She began to rock against her hand, the squeaking sound of the leather rubbing against itself and the wet sound of her cunt as it clenched around her fingers, counterpoints to her low groans. 

Sinking her fingers as deep as she could she begged her body to find release, she needed this. She needed this so bad. She needed to come. She needed to come  _ right now. _

Nearly frantic, she began to whine as she chased her pleasure, bucking up into the glove. She removed the second glove from her pocket and stuffed it in her mouth.

It helped, forcing herself to take in less oxygen, to breathe only through her nose. The pleasure heightened, a quick ramp up of intensity; her screams were muffled by the bitter leather on her tongue as she used her second hand to rub at her clit, as quick and hard as she could bear.

She was close… so close … she needed a little more, an accelerant for her fire. She closed her eyes and envisioned a man with her, someone strong, with firm hands and long, clever fingers. Capable enough to ensure she was cared for, and handsome, who loved her the way she deserved. 

The memory of Armitage Hux's sensuous lips and sharp green eyes flung her over the edge—into ecstasy or madness, she wasn't sure which. Thinking of the pout of his lower lip made her shudder with a delicious aftershock.

Panting, as the tidal wave of sensation crested, sending tingles up and down her spine, she came back to herself. The orgasm had been good, pretty darn good, and it had been awhile. She felt grateful and sated.

She removed the glove from her mouth and zipped her jumpsuit back up, buttoning it at the top and inhaled deeply. That felt better.

A quick check of the time revealed she had just a few more minutes to spare. The terminal indicated the transmission was successfully received by the Resistance so she wiped its memory bank of her recent activity and headed for the door.

The gloves she kept in her pocket. They might not be ruined but they needed to be cleaned and she couldn't leave any physical evidence behind. With a quick smirk over at General Hux's sofa, she turned off the light and slipped out of the room. 


End file.
